Five Times Jim Thought Karen Might Be Krazy
by peski0piksi
Summary: And One Time Pam Knew She Was


Five Times Jim Thought Karen Might be Krazy (And One Time Pam Knew She Was)

A/N: This is my first attempt at a "Five Things" fic, so please let me know what you think. Also, the title contains a deliberate misspelling as a tribute to everyone over on TWOP who enjoys the Krazy!Karen theory. Disclaimer: I actually do like Karen! Also, I own nothing here, just having fun.

1. It was the evening after their first day back in Scranton, and the waitress had just brought their drink order to the table. Jim just had a beer, but Karen had gone with a Long Island Iced Tea, which she immediately proceeded to down at an alarming rate.

Wow, Fillipelli," he joked, watching her. "Better pace yourself. Believe me, today was relatively tame. You've only had a slight glimpse of how bizarre it can get working for Michael Scott."

Karen had raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow and placed the glass back down on the table.

"All I can say is…you had better be worth it, Halpert."

Jim felt his smile slip just a fraction, and he tried to keep his tone light as he replied.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that man is completely off the charts. I know you tried to warn me, but…I mean…I don't know. I just don't think I'm going to survive this place unless you're there to help keep me sane."

"Oh, just wait," Jim said lightly and took a sip of his beer. "Eventually you'll learn to love it."

Two beers and a raucous game of darts later, Jim had convinced himself that she hadn't meant it the way it had sounded. She hadn't really moved here—three hours away from all her friends and family—just to be with a guy she had only been on two dates with. After all, that would be ridiculous.

2. It was Sunday afternoon, and Karen had come over for their usual pizza-and-a-movie. She flopped down on his couch and immediately put her feet up on the coffee table.

"So, guess what?"

"What?" He returned her smile as he brought their drinks in from the kitchen.

"Guess who found an awesome apartment listed in this morning's paper?"

"Well," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Let me think…"

"Oh, shut up. It's perfect—hardwood floors, built-in washer and dryer, the works. And I can afford it without a roommate. I already called and made an appointment to go see it tomorrow. You don't think Michael will give me any trouble about taking the time off, do you? Do you want to come with me?"

Her excitement was contagious.

"Yeah, I'm sure it won't be a problem. Wow, that's great! So where is this amazing apartment?"

"Oh! That's the best part actually! It's on Maple Drive."

"Maple Drive?" he asked, suddenly very uneasy. "You mean…just around the corner Maple Drive?"

"Yep! So if I get it, you'd better be careful because I'm going to be keeping an eye on you, Halpert."

By the time Jim talked to Pam about the fight that had resulted from this conversation, he was tired of getting the cold shoulder from Karen and just tired of thinking about it all, period. So he didn't tell Pam the "keep an eye on you" part, and he let her convince him that he was being silly. Karen must have just been joking, anyway.

3. It was only for a split second, but when he turned from the coat rack to behold Karen standing there, her hair teased and sprayed to monstrous heights, and her face plastered with garish makeup, he was truly scared. But it was only for a moment, and then she explained it all away in the elevator anyway.

4. It was two in the morning, and this was the third night. The third night of talking and reassuring and discussing and analyzing and Jim was tired. So tired. Things were finally winding down, and they were in bed, and Karen was resting her head on his shoulder and Jim just wanted to sleep. But then out of the silence came her voice. Again.

"You know what I just thought of?"

"Hmm?"

"You're sort of my boss, Jim. I mean, you'd better be glad we're working this out. I could totally file a sexual harassment lawsuit against you."

She propped herself up to look at his face, and then she laughed.

"God, Halpert. I'm just _kidding_."

As tired as he was, Jim didn't fall asleep until the sun had almost come up.

5. It was Phyllis' wedding and Kevin's Police cover band finally had a gig. Karen was up on the stage, covering for the lead singer while he took a much-needed break. She had a beautiful voice.

But _Every Breathe You Take_? Really? Had she never actually paid attention to the lyrics? Out of all the Police songs she could have picked, she had chosen to sing the ultimate stalker's theme song, and then she had announced to the entire reception hall that it was dedicated to him. He didn't even care that she was an extremely talented singer--this was just creepy.

Out of sheer force of habit, he looked around for Pam's reaction. But Pam was standing alone at the bar, her back turned, downing a shot of what looked like whiskey. There was no help to be had there.

He was trapped, and there seemed to be no rescue in sight.

1. Pam had been so proud of herself, working up the nerve to ask Jim to dance like that. And why shouldn't she? Karen didn't own him, after all, and they were friends. They'd been friends for such a long time. There was no reason on Earth why they shouldn't be able to dance together at a coworkers wedding. It was all very innocent.

Of course, it hadn't _felt_ innocent when he had taken her in his arms. When after a few moments of silence between them he had pulled her even closer as they swayed, no, _danced_, to the music. When his cheek had grazed hers, and she could smell his soap and feel his heart beating, and she was tumbling, falling back into her memories of that night.

It was innocent, but it took all her strength to pull away from him once the music had stopped. They had smiled at each other, and then they had been pulled in different directions—Kelly, clueless as ever, dragged her away to meet "the cutest guy ever! I think he's related to Bob Vance, but he'd just be perfect for you, you just have to ask him to dance…" And Karen had come to reclaim her boyfriend.

It was two songs later when she had run into Karen in the ladies' room. They were both standing at the mirror, Pam washing her hands, Karen re-applying her lipstick, when Karen spoke.

"So, I saw you and Jim dancing."

Pam looked up, startled.

"Oh. Yeah…" She certainly wasn't going to _apologize_.

But it didn't seem like an apology was what Karen was looking for.

"Listen," she said calmly. "I know you two have all this history, or whatever, but he's with me now."

"Oh, I know…"

"So do you think you could just back off? I mean, we're trying to work things out and I think you're just confusing him, teasing him like that."

Pam could only stare at her in the mirror, like a deer stuck in the headlights.

"I really don't think…" she finally sputtered, but found herself unable to complete a coherent thought.

Karen seemed satisfied, though. She took a tissue, blotted her lipstick, and gave Pam a bright smile.

"Thanks, Pam. I knew you'd understand. Enjoy the rest of your evening!"

And with that she breezed out the door.

When Pam finally came back to herself enough to return to the festivities, it was to behold Karen up on stage, serenading Jim with a seductive rendition of _Every Breath You Take._

She needed a drink. She needed a lot of drinks.

She headed straight to the bar and ordered a shot of whiskey.

_As soon as this atrocious song is over_, she thought, _I am going to ask Jim to dance again. _

She ordered another shot.

_And then I am going to steal him away from that _crazy_ bitch_.


End file.
